"Haha... Fuck. This sucks, man."
They say a man should never cry. That showing weakness is something he's never allowed to do—especially not in front of others.
But what about when he's completely alone? When life's weight is so crushing that despair seeps into every corner of his soul?
For Lin Wei, this was that moment.
He had lived an exemplary life—dutiful, kind, and enduring. Yet now, everything had collapsed. First, his father severed all ties with him, leaving behind only a cold note and a bank transfer of one million RMB as compensation for all the years lost.
Then, barely moments later, he caught his girlfriend cheating on him. As if that weren't enough, the money was stolen. Just like that—gone. All of it.
Now, under the cold weight of pouring rain, Lin Wei stood in silence, soaked to the bone, broken in spirit.
His mother had died when he was fifteen.
A year later, his father remarried.
Lin was told to wait—to give his stepmother time to accept him.
He did.
He waited.
He sent gifts to his younger brother and sister.
He called his father regularly, always cheerful, never revealing how he struggled just to survive. He lived in poverty but never complained, carrying the burden with silent dignity.
And now, it had all come crashing down.
"Haha... I'm truly shit. But... I guess that's fine too."
His teeth clenched, his gaze trembling with unshed tears. But still—he stood.
There, in that narrow alley, rain falling relentlessly around him, he felt something unexpected. Not the chill of cold water on skin, but a strange, calming sensation. As though the storm itself was soothing his rage, washing away the worst of his sorrow.
Driven by emotion, he knew nothing good would come. And if there was one thing he'd learned from life, it was how to endure.
[Ding!]
[Time Cult-Shop: Activating…]
[New host detected.]
Amid the relentless downpour that mirrored his crumbling spirit, Lin Wei suddenly saw a flicker—a translucent blue screen hovering before his eyes. He blinked. Once. Twice. Still there.
He scoffed bitterly. "Great. Now I'm hallucinating. A full mental breakdown—top-tier stuff. Scary, really."
[Would host like to trade?]
[Available trades:]
1 year of lifespan = 1 Billion RMB
5 years = 20 Billion RMB
More options began to flood the screen—hundreds of strange items, artifacts, and beings he couldn't begin to comprehend. There were even slaves listed from other dimensions, priced at five months of lifespan. Strangely, all prices seemed marked down.
[Special Host Discount: 90% OFF]
Lin Wei's jaw slackened. "What the hell… Five years for a dimension-traveling slave? They really know how to bait a customer."
He kept scrolling, half-laughing, half-dreading the implications.
"...Affiliate marketing? Are you kidding me?"
Then he saw another message flash in the corner:
[Current Workers in Host's Dimension: 0]
He paused. "Wait… Does that mean I'm the only one with access to this weird-ass shop?"
The rain kept falling, but suddenly, it didn't seem so cold anymore. Something inside Lin Wei stirred—curiosity, maybe. Or just the last spark of a man who had nothing left to lose.
"Okay... I'm willing to trade five years of my lifespan."
Lin Wei's voice echoed faintly in the empty alley.
The moment the words left his lips, a strange fatigue washed over him—heavy, sudden, like his soul had been drained. His knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the wet ground, heart pounding as weakness flooded his body.
Then—[Ding!]
A familiar chime. His phone buzzed in his pocket.
With trembling hands, he pulled it out and unlocked the screen.
There, in black and white, was a new message from his banking app.
[You have received 20,000,000,000.00 CNY.]
[Transaction completed via verified legal channel.]
For a moment, Lin Wei couldn't breathe. The exhaustion vanished. His limbs stopped shaking. His mind—just moments ago a storm of hopelessness—went utterly still.
It was real.
All of it.
The shop. The trade. The price. The money.
"Shit like this actually exists in the world…" he muttered, eyes fixed on the translucent blue screen still hovering in front of him.
The impossible had just happened. He had sold five years of his life. For wealth beyond imagination.
And somehow, it was all legal. Official. Quiet. Clean.
He stared at the balance, then back at the system. A part of him wanted to laugh. Another part wanted to scream.
But instead, he just stood there—soaked, silent—as the last remnants of his old worldview quietly crumbled away.
"Wow..." Lin Wei muttered, staring at the glowing screen in disbelief.
[Remaining Lifespan: 43 years, 10 months]
The number looked solid, cold—and yet, negotiable. He had just sold five years and gotten them back... with interest. But more importantly, he now realized the system wasn't just a way to trade time for money.
It was an economy. A world.
Curious, he tapped into the store again, scrolling past the basic RMB-for-time exchange. That's when he saw it: the Heavenly Treasure section. Items rolled in like some cosmic shopping catalog:
Monkey King Wine—"Grants temporary divine strength; enhances vitality. Cost: 2 months lifespan."
Lesser Immortal Pill—"Halts aging for ten years. Cures 90% of mortal illnesses. Cost: 3 years lifespan."
Voidwalk Boots—"Allows short-range teleportation across space. Cost: 4 years lifespan."
Phoenix Feather—"A spiritual artifact capable of rebirth after fatal injury. Cost: 7 years lifespan."
He blinked. Every item was priceless in terms of ability and power—but none could be bought with RMB.
Only time.
And it wasn't just items. There were people.
Dimensional Slaves, Spiritual Bodyguards, Artifact Forgers, andBeast Tamers—all with absurd power and costs ranging from months to decades of lifespan. Yet, with his 90% host discount, some were absurdly accessible.
Lin Wei let out a slow, shaky laugh. "This... is insane."
Then something else caught his attention: Affiliate Marketing. He clicked it.
Suddenly, the interface expanded with new tools—custom contracts, tracking tabs, resource management, and an eerie "Time Acquisition" sub-menu.
He scrolled and read:
Host may acquire lifespan from others via a signed contract.
Host must be affiliated with the system to activate this feature.
He didn't hesitate.
[Join Affiliate Program?] – Confirmed.
The screen shimmered, and then—
[Affiliate status: Granted]
[Your traded 5 years have been refunded.]
[Bonus: +20 years of lifespan]
[40,000,000,000.00 CNY transferred to your account.]
His phone buzzed violently. 40 billion. Clean, instant, real.
Lin Wei stood in the rain, drenched and dazed, as the true depth of what he'd been given slowly settled in. He now had time, money, power, and the ability to take more from others. He glanced back at the contract tab. "Why not start a cult for time?"
He imagined rich men—billionaires desperate to live longer. Criminals. Politicians. Sick families begging for a cure. All of them could trade their time for his promises. He'd give them pills. Blessings. Even temporary miracles. And all the while, their lifespan would become his. His lips curled into a smile.
"But before all that… I need a drink."
Though the strange fatigue from the time trade had vanished, Lin Wei felt an emotional hangover clinging to him—an overwhelming pressure that needed to be washed down with something stronger than clarity.
So, instead of heading back to his rundown apartment, he wandered into a quiet little bar nearby. One drink turned into two, and the heaviness in his chest slowly melted into a warm, detached buzz.
An hour later, he returned home. The place looked even smaller now. Dirtier. Worthless.
He didn't hesitate.
He took a shower—long and hot—and began packing everything he owned. Which, really, wasn't much. A few changes of clothes, a cheap laptop, and a couple of worn books. No photos. Nothing sentimental.
By the time he zipped up his single suitcase, he was already done with the place. Forever.
He locked the door behind him without looking back.
That evening, he booked a room at one of the most prestigious hotels in the city: Silverblaze.
At 10,000 RMB a night, it was more than just luxury—it was a statement. The massive tower loomed over the skyline, sleek and silver, reflecting the city lights like a blade cutting through the dark.
Walking into the polished marble lobby, Lin Wei drew a few cautious glances. He still wore the same cheap clothes from earlier—plain jeans, a basic hoodie, and worn-out sneakers—but now with a single rolling suitcase in hand.
A young hotel attendant approached him with a polite smile, though her eyes held a flicker of doubt.
Company intern? Lottery winner? Influencer prank? she wondered silently.
But her professionalism didn't falter.
"Welcome to Silverblaze, sir," she said, offering a slight bow. "Do you have a reservation, or would you like to book a room with us tonight?"
Lin Wei smiled faintly, calm and self-assured.
"Yes. Book me your best available suite."
At first, the hotel attendant looked stunned. Then skeptical.
Still, she politely guided Lin Wei through the room options, listing off facilities—private balcony, rooftop access, in-room sauna, exclusive lounge service.
But her voice faltered when he casually pointed to one of the Presidential Suites—a room that cost 35,000 RMB per night—and said, "I'll take it. For the week."
Her fingers hesitated above the touchscreen.
"That would be… 245,000 for seven nights, sir."
He simply nodded and pulled out a sleek black credit card.
Not the system's doing—this card was something else. A parting "gift" from his father, meant to carry the one million RMB that sealed their final goodbye. It came with premium financial access—no withdrawal limits, no questions.
He tapped the terminal.
Transaction Approved.
The woman's posture subtly changed. A moment ago, she thought he might have been lost or delusional. Now, she was all professionalism and soft courtesy. "Your room will be ready shortly, Mr. Lin. Would you like a drink while you wait?"
Lin Wei gave a small nod, watching her walk away with new respect in her eyes.
Alone in the lounge, as soft jazz played overhead, he sat with a glass of whiskey and let the calm return.
But his thoughts weren't calm.
Now that his mind was clearer—no more heartbreak, no more hunger, no more desperation—he could see how unnaturally fast everything had fallen apart. Not just today, but in the days leading up to it.
His girlfriend, always sweet and stable, suddenly broke it off without reason.
His father, cold but never cruel, arrived just to cut ties—yet made sure he had money and access after doing so.
It all felt… staged.
"Like I was being cornered into something."
A system that traded time for wealth. A credit card loaded with a final payment. A betrayal timed just right. Was it a test? A game?
His brows furrowed.
"Is this tied to the system?"
But even as he asked, he knew the answer was likely no.
Whatever force was behind the Time Cult-shop wouldn't need such roundabout manipulations. If it could extract lifespan, sell immortal pills, and transport dimensional slaves, it wouldn't waste time playing human drama.
No, this—this felt personal. Hidden. Human.
Someone had orchestrated his fall… just in time for him to find the system.
And Lin Wei wasn't about to let that go unanswered.